


When Particles Collide

by neptunedemon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anal Sex, Dystopian Vibes, Except It's Mystery Space Vodka, Explicit Sexual Content, Future, M/M, Planet Destruction, Recreational Drug Use, Space Flight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptunedemon/pseuds/neptunedemon
Summary: The end of the world comes on a Tuesday.It's quite punctual.Viktor, fortunately, also shows up on time.





	When Particles Collide

The world ended on a Tuesday. 

As far as Tuesdays go, it could have gone worse. But everything happened right on time, and any bureaucrat within the three star systems humanity had its hands in would've cheered. In fact they were definitely cheering.

Because by the time the wasteland of a planet Earth was blasted back into stardust, 200 passenger ships had left the solar system. 

Well, 199, to be exact. 

The last one to leave was only just now edging out past the ice rocks that still clung to orbit around the sun. 

The several hundred people on board received a spectacular lightshow from the Earth-side of the craft.

They cheered a loud, roaring cheer that vibrated the floor. Many took shots of something like vodka and laughed to the peculiar way it burned. Lights started swooping above them to a music that seemed to boom out of the ceiling.

It would be exactly 2.43 Earth-years until Earth Flight 200 reached its destination planet a parsec away. 

For now they were going to celebrate this centuries-long coming day: the day humanity dragged itself from its feet at last and admitted Earth was a lost cause - they'd fucked up, let it rot from the outside in.  

Indeed, this space trip was practically a 2.43 year-long cruise.

A never-ending party was being held in the upper deck where the crowds have gathered now. 

Enclosed bays were separated out as smaller gathering rooms to be booked for assemblies of whatever kind imaginable, because outerspace is a lawless place. 

There's food, and drugs, and sweetly rich, pollutant-free oxygen, and the android staff steering them through the void is on shift 24/7, except out here it’s infinity. 

It was a paradise for their victory. 

Of course each personal quarters came with a cryo-sleep station for the tamer of heart, including those who wished to skip the 2.43 years of aging and just get there already. 

 

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

 

Yuuri thinks he's going to freeze himself and skip the whole ordeal. 

Everyone will get bored and do that eventually. 

But the explosion of Earth far, far away glints in his eyes. Something rises in his chest and it makes him feel like he's about to float. 

The people around him roar their praise and it fills him even more. 

Today, right now, is an incredible step for humanity. No more Earth. They can't go back anymore, they can't cling to the delusion that some figurative Mother Nature is going to take them back. 

Phichit is next to him suddenly, and his mouth is moving - he's either talking or laughing, Yuuri isn't sure, but he hands him a shot glass filled with something gently bubbling. Ah, this stuff.

Around him everyone is taking shots and shoving their empty glasses into the air for the hovering Waiterdroids to pour more in. Though the light of Earth is still bright as the planet ruptures into space, everyone begins to break from the floor-to-ceiling windows to throw themselves into the first party of the journey. The only party, because apparently the first will never end. 

There are no ceiling lights; the black of space would overtake them, except Lightdroids are hovering around like what fireflies appeared like in the old art and films, before they had died off like everything else.

The lights fill the vast room with bubbly, flickering warmth, and people shift with the music that's started beating out from speakers hidden somewhere. 

It looks beautiful. Yuuri thinks about how they're floating in the middle of the infinite and there's nowhere to go but on, and it's a radiant idea. 

He throws back the drink.

It burns smoothly down his throat and tickles his insides. 

Phichit says something else through giddy smiles. He's starting to dance like everyone around them, getting entwined in the music like it’s rising gently through him.

"What?" Yuuri yells, but his own voice is lost. He glance passed his friend, and maybe it's the drink and its fast and weird effect, but he's seeing the crowds of people in a new light. 

He hardly notices Phichit take his shot glass and hold it up to be caught and refilled by a Waiterdroid. 

Yuuri feels the tug into the room like something holy. He wants to be out there enjoying this moment with everyone. 

Phichit takes his hand and pulls him forward, helping him along, still laughing and half-dancing. Yuuri blinks a few times and his head is definitely fuzzy. There's cold glass against his lips, then a burn, and Phichit is pouring the liquid into his mouth for him. 

Somewhere under the pounding sound, he maybe hears him say something like, “Come on, Yuuri!” 

He swallows and _fuck_ that stuff always has a way of curling warm fingers into your brain and watering down the world. Nothing matters except that every next moment is better than the last. 

Yuuri pushes into the crowd and this time he’s dragging his friend, who is still laughing wildly. The shot glass falls from his hand but never shatters, surely caught by a low-swooping droid.

The humans on board Earth Flight 200 spin a dance together into the stars. 

Above them lights twirl like Saturn's rings one moment and shine like the dead constellations of myth the next. The floor fades to black with tiny yellow specks of light flecked across the surface that somehow manage to look far below their feet. 

With the ceiling high glass walls, they are moving through space with no barrier. They're star fragments morphed into intelligence and brilliance finding their way through the ancestral paths left by the universe’s creation. 

It's dizzying and everyone feels it - Yuuri feels it with them. He hasn't heard a damned coherent word since the moment Earth blew up, but he doesn't need to. He knows what they're all thinking. They know what he's thinking. 

Phichit hasn't lost him yet, and his hands slide down Yuri's waist from behind like Yuuri's pouring and he's coming with him. 

His friend spins, but Yuuri feels himself keep pouring down. It's not a waterfall, but a molten pour, like what was being torn out from the insides of the Earth as they moved. 

His clothes feel extra soft against his skin. The hands of Phichit and strangers feel amazing.

It's funny it takes him this long to realize he's just really turned on and wants someone, now. 

He isn't the only one. 

His focus pulls away from being a singularity to notice everyone touching each other, pressing against each other, grabbing hands and pulling themselves away from the center. 

He twirls around to seek Phichit out, to see if he's latched himself to someone, to see if he maybe feels like kissing him because Yuuri is REALLY feeling like that right now.  

Instead he nearly knocks himself into someone else.

He takes a step back, blinking. 

The most beautiful person is standing before him. And he's staring back at Yuuri like maybe _Yuuri_ is the most beautiful one. 

The edges of his mind try to push the thought onto him that anyone would look at anyone like that right now, but... no. 

This is different. For a second Yuuri feels sucked back onto Earth, on the ground, at a stupid party that's flanked by responsibilities and obligations on all sides; and this is a person that could make it all better. 

And it would be okay to be thrown back on Earth right now, because this stranger's hair is pulled straight from the stars, so he'd still have that beautiful illusion. 

Yeah, he doesn't need bubbly space vodka for this person to be beautiful. They simply are. 

The stranger cracks a grin and it’s like a ripple in spacetime, but one only Yuuri can feel. It breaks deep and he feels a universe come to life inside him. 

There's no question asked, no words attempted to trade beneath the raucous. They dance. 

It's simple. 

One second they're two particles, the next they're colliding. And well, basic physics tells one of what happens then. 

It's fucking intoxicating. Yuuri feels like he has roots, and that's got to be forbidden, right? 

The graze of this stranger brushing his body against him from behind, then the criminally good press of his hips into Yuuri's ass. He's hard, too; the thrum of Yuuri’s blood is like a whole other drug piling its effect heavy into his head. 

And his head his tumbling when the stranger leans into him and, with lips against his ear, says something. Yuuri doesn't catch the words but he does catch the timbre of his voice. It runs in through his ear and fills him not enough. He wants more. 

He nods without realizing what's he's nodding to. 

The stranger begins to pull him somewhere and he goes willingly.

Everything inside him is an ache to be touched, to be pressed into, and he hopes, he so fucking hopes... 

Suddenly the bulk of sound is behind them. The stranger has taken him to the elevators that rise out of the floor at the end of the massive room. 

They shuffle in with others, pairs, trios, more, holding onto each other and grinning droopy, blissful grins. 

Yuuri feels his face heat. 

He probably didn't have as much space vodka as the others... because he feels a tightening in his chest almost like nerves. Unsurety.

He searches for the buzz and tries to grab hold of it, but now that he's aware of its dissipation, it's like trying to grasp water. 

The stranger's arm is around his waist. A glance up at him puts his heart at a slightly melted ease. He's still absolutely beautiful. 

The elevator opens. People pour out. It's like the magma again, hot and deadly, as they all spread out to claim a place.

Yuuri glances around. 

They're in a corridor lined with rooms sealed off by sliding doors. Some people are entering the ones nearby. 

Down here he knows there's a kitchen somewhere, but the rest of the rooms must be the ones fit for anyone to enter and use how they wish. 

The stranger pulls him through the hall without a word, though he throws back a smiling glance. Yuuri's heart sends a wave a heat.

He's distracted enough for the moment to notice he still is a little gone. The lack of music makes it harder to tell, but the floor feels like its curving under his feet. 

The stranger stops at a room and presses his hand on a panel outside. It lights green underneath, and the doors slide open. 

The rooms are way bigger than he thought they'd be. There's a space with table and chairs, screens attached to the wall, a kitchenette. And then a large chouch. 

There's a window view, too. Of space. They're not facing where Earth was. Though they surely couldn't see it by now even from the top deck. 

"Viktor."

Yuuri blinks. "What?" His voice is hoarse and nearly a gasp in his stilted state.

"My name is Viktor."

"... Yuuri."

He feels penetrated under Viktor's eyes. 

"You're amazing, Yuuri," Viktor says, which doesn't help. 

Yuuri ducks his head with a blush. Part of him wants to hum no response and slip into this Viktor's arms. He wants to whisper _let's do what we came for_ and not speak again. He still wants him, though the heat has ebbed away with their move from the dancefloor. 

Viktor reaches out and puts a hand on Yuuri's waist. Yuuri bites his lip and steps toward him once, blush creeping higher on his face but he wants this. _Him._

"Tell me something about you."

And that makes him hesitate. 

"What?"

"I want to hear your words. I want to know you. Tell me something." Viktor sounds so serious and almost lost in the way he says this that Yuuri can't not comply. 

There's nothing interesting about him; there's nothing interesting about any of them. Not anymore. But he finds something to spill out. 

"I dream about ice."

"... What?"

"Ice."

The single words hangs between them. It’s foreign. They fill the gaps of it with what they've read and watched in media. 

The last of the ice melted a century ago. 

Yuuri feels the need to heal the silence swelling between them. He can't read Viktor's eyes. He wishes he had more of that drink... he could probably get some down here...

But he says, "I think it sounds amazing. Something cold... everywhere. All over the ground, falling from the sky, building a glass world over a broken one."

This isn't sexy at all. This is stupid, actually.

He wonders how to recover from this. Maybe he should just yank him into a kiss, or shove him onto the couch.

"That's perfect," Viktor responds. 

Not what he expects. He likes the sound of that, though. Perfect. 

"Yuuri, dreamer of ice," Viktor declares; he raises one of Yuuri's hands to his mouth and turns it around to place a kiss on its surface. What the fuck... Yuuri's stomach feels like a thousand ounces of space vodka have been poured in... so ticklish and almost giggly...

Viktor continues, "Will you grant me this night?"

He wonders, vaguely, if Viktor had even had anything to drink tonight at all. He suspects not. 

That makes him happier than what makes sense. 

He chooses not to think or dwell because this is... perfect.

They collide. 

Yuuri feels a power inside himself that he didn't know was there, but the way Viktor looks into him grants him it. 

The couch is a fancy futon. It’s soft, plush, and folds back for them. Their clothes come off like Yuuri’s delusion of waterfalls and magma hitting the floor. It doesn’t take much for him to be hard like before; the build up inside him from the high and now this has him shivering. 

He and Viktor kneel on the bed, kissing, and their cocks touch, but their hands are wrapped in each other’s hair. Viktor’s hair of stars, Yuuri’s like the black between them. 

Their mouths breathe hot against each other when Yuuri hitches his hips inward. He can’t help it. He wants this so badly. 

There’s a need that feels unreal. It’s rooting deep inside him and pulling every bit of heat to the surface of his skin. 

“Beautiful,” Viktor whispers. It’s not sultry and smooth like before; it’s rasped and desperate, and it’s fucking great. 

He puts his mouth on Viktor’s again. There’s a tickle in his chest when he feels his tongue. 

Yuuri wants to know things about Viktor, too. 

Because maybe Viktor dreams about ice.

Maybe Viktor dreams about things that not even Yuuri has imagined.

He thinks he might be able to touch Viktor better if he knows. There’s not time for that now, but there is time. Two and a half years of it.

He thinks about Viktor sweeping him off his feet on the dance floor and pushes him back with a smirk.

Viktor’s breath is caught in his throat as he lands back, but he looks up at Yuuri and waits with heavy, wanting eyes and a deeply rising chest. He grins a little when Yuuri stares too long.

He remembers the teasing push of Viktor’s hard cock against his ass and wipes the smirk from his face by pushing apart his knees. He leans over him, and Viktor tries to reach up. But Yuuri pushes his wrists down to his sides so that only his shoulders rear up when he licks over a nipple.

Viktor hisses, Yuuri seethes inside.

He likes this. Yuuri doesn’t know Viktor yet but the presence of Viktor is fitting here and now, like stars in the sky, that Yuuri considers this is just once instance of them across space.

He sucks his nipple, runs his thumb over the other, let’s Viktor’s cock rub against his stomach and own dick. Skin sheens with sweat on both of them; Yuuri feels like he’s drowning.

Somewhere out there in another time contained in the space, they’ve walked this path.

When particles collide, the moment-long subatomic explosion may be brief, but it goes everywhere. 

_They’re everywhere._

Yuuri works hard to fit all of Viktor in his mouth, to let his tongue slide wet against it. He sucks thickly each time Viktor moans out. His wrists twitch at his sides where they obediently manage to stay. 

Viktor’s cock is wet when he pulls off, so wet, allowing for the gloriously smooth stroke of his hand and Viktor’s back arches.

Viktor is a mesmerizing thing to watch writhe against the stroke of his hand and eventually the push of his fingers inside. He’s so fucking sensitive that Yuuri finds himself just wanting to touch him small and slowly to find all the ways he can move. All the sounds he can make.

But he growls, “Yuuri,” soon enough, and his fantasy is easily snapped back to reality.

Viktor’s hands have worked themselves back over his head. Legs sprawled, back curved, mouth open, he’s so hot. Beautiful. A star fallen and smashed straight into the couch. 

“Please fuck me,” Viktor groans, and somehow it’s still polite? And Yuuri thinks about how he took his hand like he was some sort of prince and kissed it. 

God damn.

Only half inside him, Viktor huffs and tightens around him. Yuuri bends over with a whimper 

“Viktor,” Yuuri gasps out. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor purrs. 

Fuck, he’s tight and good. Yuuris eyes sting as he shallowly pulls out and pushes back in. 

It’s good. It’s pulling him into the sun. 

“Yuuri,” he presses because Yuuri’s just hesitating there as he tries to focus on not spiraling out into space. 

The sheer need in Viktor’s tone is positively venomous. He grabs Viktor’s hips and hikes him up just enough that he can hit down into him, deep, because he wants to make this fucking stay. He wants the energy they create tonight to imprint onto the universe, right here.

He fucks Viktor only as hard as his sharpest breaths and pitchiest moans. He could fuck him harder, or softer, whatever he wanted. 

 _Shit_ he doesn’t know Viktor but again, it doesn’t matter. He’s learning. He will keep learning.

He pumps Viktor’s dick soon after he’s fucking him. They’re sweaty and rocking together, and there’s no music here but they’re both breathing heavy sounds. 

Skin slaps in such a lewd way but it makes him heady. He wants to fuck him more and more, to chase each sound they’re making and drive it all deeper and louder.

Viktor comes with a sudden yell, and it’s a mess, onto his own stomach and down Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri smirks with pride before grabbing Viktor’s hip.

He fucks him harder to grab his own orgasm. Nearly biting through his lip, he holds onto Viktor in his mind. Viktor, coming and shuddering and clenching up.

He comes hard. So, so hard, and for the barest second he feels like the bubbly space stuff is rising back into his brain. Then it settles down and his ear is against Viktor’s heart, and his head is riding on the rise and fall of his chest, while he seeks his breath. 

“Fuck,” Viktor mutters. 

“Mm.”

Moments of stillness pass.

They’re star fragments more than intelligence and brilliance. They’re blood and soil and windblown dust held together by water and energy. Yuuri feels it laying there with Viktor, the pound of his own blood harmonizing with the beat of Viktor’s heart.

He clutches Viktor’s shoulder with a hand to hold himself together. He’s going to fly apart in a disaster, just like Earth.

But Viktor grabs his hand and takes hold. He anchors him. He’s the core that Yuuri surrounds. Together they keep each other spinning.

Yuuri reminds himself they’re headed to a new home. They’ll find a way to embed themselves in whatever that planet has to offer. And this time they’ll do better.

He imagines Viktor is thinking the same things.

And he’s happy, because he isn’t sure all the others will understand this. They’ll drink more and bury themselves in the false sense of belonging within the metallic void that’s feigning the cosmos.

Yuuri is very happy he didn’t freeze himself.

**Author's Note:**

> ty!! ~ follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/neptundemon/) and [tumblr](http://skateonme.tumblr.com/)
> 
> take care of the earth. the stars may have borne us all, but she is the mother that raised us ❤
> 
> ♪♪♪ ヽ(ˇ∀ˇ )ゞ


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